1. My grandfather on my dad’s side used to drink straight up Grasshopper’s every evening after dinner while watching the telly, and I swore I’d never forget the scent that wafted through the room. Nor would I ever forget the bright green food colored liquid resting in the vessel he would raise to his lips. I was frightened and intrigued at the same time. I thought the stuff was cough syrup.

2. My grandmother on my dad’s side would make the classic Crème de Menthe “Grasshopper” sheet cake, full of preservatives with a Betty Crocker cake base mix, the liqueur, hot fudge, and cool whip. An ice-box cake, if you will. It was effing amazing. I can’t assure you at what point of my childhood I finally put two and two together and realized the yummy green minty stuff in the after dinner dessert cakes she’d make was the same stuff I was horrified my grandfather was poisoning himself with. It looks something like this:

As you may know, I’ve been on a bundt cake baking kick lately. Between that last cake and this new cake, there’s one in between the two that I’m putting on hold. Because this particular bundt cake is way more important and a million times more amazing. I have been so excited to share this recipe with you, I couldn’t stand it another minute.

Sometimes it’s the small, simple things in life that can inspire the most ambitious projects. Take, for instance, coming upon a beautiful vintage bundt pan in a thrift store. A unique style, full of beautiful twists, turns and curves. Something you could never find anywhere else.